


oh how I want to be in that number!

by Aryashi



Series: F.E.C.s (Fusion Enabling Chips) [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: As in AU with Fusions, Blood Gulch Chronicles, Gen, anyway, fusion au, gratuitous use of song, not song fic but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryashi/pseuds/Aryashi
Summary: The FEC chips arrived with no fanfare, a stupidly thick instruction manual, and very little warning about what they meant.(Church and Caboose fuse for the first time, and are also the very first fusion.)





	oh how I want to be in that number!

“-having prepared the neural network bonding solution as described in the instructions on page 31C and coated the 5 bottom pins, push the F.E.C exactly... 3.46 centimeters into the recipients implants.”

Church looked up from the manual. Tucker held the slightly goopy computer chip between two fingers in one hand while the other pushed some hair out of the way of Caboose’s neck. Caboose stared blankly, and Tucker was glaring. 

“The fuck is 3.64 centimeters?” Tucker said.

“How the hell should I know? Just push it until the damn thing clicks or something.”

Tucker looked down at Caboose, shrugged, and shoved the chip into the back of Caboose’s neck. Caboose shivered like a dog with a chill.

“I taste… cold.”

“Feel like you’re gonna blow up?” Tucker said, wiping some of the goop off his hands.

“No more than normal!” Caboose rolled his head around. “Soooo... am I a robot now?”

Tucker snorted. “Yep. You sure are. Wanna go stick a fork in a light socket and charge up?”

Mid roll, Caboose narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think… I should believe you.”

“Believe whatever you want man, no skin off my back if you’re a robot or not.”

“Can you keep it down over there?!” Church said, “I’m reading!”

The chips had arrived without warning or preamble with the usual shipment of supplies. Buried under the MREs and toilet paper, wrapped up in so much padding it had taken Caboose and a ka-bar to get them out. With the chips came a manual that Church suspected had been written as fucking densely as possible, just to be a pain.

“Once the chip is inserted blah blah blah careful calibration blah blah jargon and junk… Okay it’s not saying to  _ do  _ anything, so we’re good. Tucker, do me next.”

“Why do I gotta play nurse here? It’s not sexy with no girls around!”

“I’m not letting Caboose get within ten feet of my neck. Look what he did to the box!”

All three of them glanced towards the splayed open cardboard corpse, still bleeding packing peanuts on the floor.

“Not my fault. I asked it to open very nicely and the box did not listen.”

Tucker sighed. “Whatever. You figure out what these chips even do yet?”

Church looked down at the manual and frowned. “Sorta? Something about ‘synchronization’ and ‘increased ability in the field’. I think it’s like some kinda mind meld… thing.” 

Tucker abruptly looked up from swabbing the second chip. “Wait, you mean these things are gonna connect our brains?”

“S’all I’m getting out of this bullshit.” Church waved the brick of a manual around for emphasis.

“Count me out.”

“Oh come on!” Church said, “You’re always complaining about not getting to try out the new tech, and the first time there’s enough for everyone, you get chickenshit.”

“First of all, I’m not getting that intimate with you idiots. Second of all, I’m not getting that intimate with you  _ dudes!  _ If there was a hot chick around, that’d be a whole other story-”

“Tucker, buddy, you’re not gonna make me test this out with  _ Caboose,  _ are you?” Church said.

“Church, that is exactly what I’m gonna do. Have fun!”

“You’re an assho-AUGH! Fucking  _ warn me,  _ cocksucker!”

Tucker laughed, and then paused. “Hey, you’ve got two?”

Church rubbed at the back of his neck and scraped away a bit of excess goo. “What?”

“Two chips. One’s already in there.”

Church looked at his slightly gooey fingers. “Huh. That’s weird,” he said, pinching the substance and watching it stretch and contract.

“... That’s all you’ve got?”

“Got about what?”

“The other chip in your implants.”

“I’ve got another chip?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “If you don’t wanna tell me just say so! Don’t be a dick.”

“You don’t be a dick.” 

Tucker took a swipe and the manual and Church yanked it back.

“So… feel anything?”

Church pondered for a second. “No. Maybe Caboose just doesn’t think?”

“That’s not true! Right now I’m thinking about how great it would be if Sheila could get smaller. She could fit in buildings, and play hide and seek, and I could give her hugs...”

“Well I’m not getting any of that, so there’s gotta be something wrong.”

Tucker snatched the manual while Church was distracted and flipped to a page at random.

“Hey!”

Tucker held up a finger. “Wait, I think I got something. ‘To activate, two or more parties with implanted F.E.C.s synchronize neural os…chill... oscillations via…” Tucker paused. His eyes scanned the pages a bit more carefully than before. 

Then he grinned. It was not a nice looking grin.

“Oh ho hoooo. This is gonna be  _ hilarious. _ ” 

\---

“This is  _ fucking bullshit. _ ” Church muttered. 

“Do your best! Dance like nobody’s watching!” Tucker had put his helmet back on, so Church could only hear the shit eating grin in his voice. But boy could he hear it. Church could hear that smug-ass smile from 20 feet away. Which he was. Because Tucker wasn’t just being a dick when he said ‘dance’.

Blue team had migrated outside the base for this next part. The part that was going to involve actual, literal dancing. With Caboose.

“Let me see the manual again, that  _ can’t  _ be what it says!” Church shifted on his feet and crossed his arms tighter to his chest. Everything felt weird and twitchy, screws turned slightly loose and rattling around just enough to feel but not enough to find and fix.  _ Dancing.  _ Why the fuck did it have to be  _ dancing?  _ Church never even danced with Tex!

“Dude, you read it  _ twice.  _ Who’s chickenshit now?” Tucker leaned back against the wall of the base, the picture of casual. 

“I’m not being chickenshit! This is just stupid!”

Caboose took that moment to interject. “Um.. Church? Do you not want to dance?”

Church growled “Of course I don’t wanna fucking dance! I’m a grown ass man, that shit’s reserved for when I’m about to black out at someone else’s wedding reception.”

“The natural habitat of white boy flailing.” Tucker said.

Caboose nodded like he understood. “When it’s black out is a very good time for dancing. Maybe waiting until night would help?”

“Caboose, that might almost be a helpful suggestion if it was ever fucking night here.” Church said, glaring up at the eternally bright sky. Then he sighed. “Let’s just get this over with. Anyone got music?”

Caboose shook his head, but that was expected. Tucker paused for a bit longer, but eventually said “Nope. Storage got filled up pretty quick with other… necessities.”

“Gross.”

“I’m talking about porn.”

“ _ I got that _ .” Church wished he could pinch the bridge of his nose through his helmet. “Great. Fucking great. What’s even better than dancing in the middle of a warzone? Dancing  _ without music  _ in the middle of a warzone.”

There was a beat of silence where all three members of Blue team contemplated what a disaster this whole enterprise was about to be. Church with disdain, Tucker with delight, and Caboose with determination. 

Church noticed first, probably because he was closer. It was quiet, a few solid degrees off key, and almost hard to hear over the natural sound of wind in the canyon… but Caboose was humming. 

“ _ Hmm hm hm hm. Hmm hm hm hm. Now when the saints go marching in! _ ” Caboose said, wiggling on his feet like he’d heard the name ‘twist’ but had never actually seen the dance. “ _ Yes I want to be in that number, when the saints go marching in! _ ”

It was ridiculous. It was inane. Caboose was singing to himself and dancing in full body armor. He wasn’t even singing particularly well. But before Tucker or Church could react beyond dumbfounded staring, Caboose grabbed Church and pulled him into some sort of ridiculous swinging motion that might, technically, be a dance. Possibly. 

_ “Now when the Saints! Go Marching in! Now when the saints go marching in!”  _ Caboose full on sang, twirling Church along for the ride,  _ “Yes I want! To be! In that number! When the saints go marching in!” _

Church remembered this song. From somewhere. It floated unattached in his memory, familiar words and rhythms he couldn’t pin anything to. But even as he thought about it, something infectiously happy rose up from the dance. Church could almost faintly hear trumpets and clarinets shouting along to Caboose’s song, bright and joyful and jazzy. Except.. Church was pretty sure the song he was remembering didn’t sound anything like  _ that.  _

Was... was this fucking  _ working? _

Caboose had devolved back into humming, but Church knew instinctively another round was coming and soon. It was almost easy to ignore Tucker losing his mind laughing, focus only on trying to keep up with the dance and waiting for his cue. 

_ “Now when the saints!” _ Caboose sang.

_ “When the saints!” _ Church replied, halfway to singing but mostly talking in rhythm. The dance almost fell apart then and there because Caboose froze in delighted shock. Tucker cut off mid laugh. Caboose recovered quickly while Tucker did not.

_ “Go marching in!”  _ Caboose sang, the happiest Church has ever seen him. 

_ “Go ma-ar-ching in!”  _ Church replied, leaning into some weird backwards sort-of-dip Caboose had thrown him into. 

_ “Now when the saints! Go marching in!” _

_ “Saints go marching in!” _

Caboose evidently was too excited for dancing anymore. He grabbed Church by both arms and spun him around fast enough to lift him, armor and all, clear off the ground. Church was getting dizzy, lightheaded, a little nauseous, but most of all… giddy?

He didn’t come in after Caboose this time. They sang/shouted together.

_ “Yes I want to be, in that number! When the saints go marching in!” _

And then-

Light. 

Church was filled up with so much  _ light,  _ bright and warm and soft- no, not soft, sturdy. Blinding. Clear, clean, crisp. It ballooned and expanded out and shone in all his cracks and dark corners until…

Until he wasn’t really  _ Church  _ anymore.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Tucker shrieked. Heh. Dumb Tucker, freaking out. Why was he freaking out? Maybe opening his eyes would explain.

He opened his eyes. All four of them.

“Hmm. That’s… different,” he said, because it was true.

\---

Tucker stared. He blinked. He blinked some more. But the image in front of him refused to change. 

It was tall. Really tall. Goddamn stupid fucking tall. If Tucker had two copies standing on his shoulders the Tucker on top might have been able to touch its helmet. Maybe. If he stretched out a lot. There were two legs, like a normal person, but four arms, two larger ones on top and a thinner, spindly pair on the chest region. Current they were stretching out and up, like someone trying to work the kinks out of their back. 

But the most unsettling thing about the entire unsettling mess had to be the color. Tucker didn’t even wanna think about how much he identified his teammates by their armor. He was pretty sure he’d seen more of that shade of paint than either of their faces. So when he saw that armor was a blue the color of a lake, darker than Church and lighter than Caboose, a cold sensation slid down his spine. 

“C-Caboose…? Church?”

The giant considered for a moment. Slowly lowered its arms out of the stretch. Then it spoke.

“No... I don’t think that’s right.”

Tucker had never been so bummed to be proven right. “It’s like… both of you in there?”

The giant nodded. “Yeah! It’s pretty sweet, actually. I’m huge! Look, I could go pick up Shiela right now!”

“Hold on a second!” Tucker screamed, arms out. “Can you get out of this?!”

“Oh. Um. Lets see.”

The giant looked up in the sky. He tapped his huge feet. Crossed his bottom arms while his top held his chin, deep in concentration.

“I could. Yeah I totally could. Do you- No not yet please.”

There was a distinct sensation to those words. Like two people using the same mouth to speak. The first half was Church, a little higher pitched and focused, but the second half was distinctly Caboose cadance. 

“I mean, I just got here!”

Tucker blinked some more. “ _ You  _ just got here?”

The giant nodded enthusiastically and crouched down closer to Tucker’s eye level. “Well duh. I’m not exactly Church or Caboose! Neither of them are this tall. Or have four eyes.”

“You’ve got  _ how many eyes?” _

“Four. Try listening more Tucker, it’s rude not to.”

Tucker was torn between the desire to ask to see and to scream his fucking lungs out. The weird mishmash didn’t catch the conflict and took a second to take off its giant helmet.

‘Here, see? Four eyes.”

Tucker did see. And he saw the face. 

Tucker was not a slow person. He’d figured out what the deal was pretty early on in this whole weird episode. But knowing and  _ seeing  _ were two totally different things.He had Caboose’s freckles but Church’s paler skin. Got Caboose’s round face for sure, but Church’s stubble. His hair was dark as hell, wavy instead of flat or thick bunches of curls. The nose was large but thin. 

And four eyes, two sets on top of each other, two wide and shining, the others more narrow and tired. They sat on the same face like they belonged there, like it wasn’t weird at all for a human face to have four fucking eyes. 

While Tucker was distracted/disturbed, the mishmash’s four eyes turned toward the direction of Red base. He  _ saw _ them get an idea. 

“Hold on a sec, you can’t go running off like... this!” Tucker said, gesturing wildly.

The giant glanced down, and Tucker realized he’d said exactly the wrong thing.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” The giant said, smugly.

“Come on! Church! Caboose! Chur...boose! Don’t you wanna- uh… hang out a little first?!”

“Nah. I think I wanna get the red team flag. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. Then I’m gonna hug Sheila, because she’s the MVP of Blue Team and I like her.”

He started walking, clearing enough distance that he could probably outrun a car.

“That is a good name though!” Churboose called back.

\---

The first thing Red Team noticed was ripples in a glass of water. Well, to be more accurate, Simmons noticed.

“Huh. Neat trick Grif.”

Grif looked up from his bag of off brand chips. “What?”

“The water. Trying to prank someone with a Jurassic Park thing. Seems a little high effort for you.”

Grif sat up. “Dude, I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

Simmons indicated the water glass he’d set down on the counter while grabbing his Red Team manual for some afternoon refreshing. It wavered again, and again, and again.

“EVERYONE TO BATTLE STATIONS!” Sarge screamed over the radio, “THE BLUES GOT HULKING TECHNOLOGY!”

Before Grif could even finish saying “What the fuck”, a massive BOOM hit the side of Red Base like a tank blast.

“Hello Reds!” A huge, loud, and cheerful voice cried out, “I’m here to take your flag and tell you that your team is the worst!”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Caboose is specifically singing this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyLjbMBpGDA) version of the song. It was exactly the kind of bright and joyful I was looking for and really helped solidify this story, give it a listen!
> 
> The Reds got their own chips basically the next day, eventually leading to the events of Temporary Alliance. I might write more fics in this au if inspiration strikes; I fuckin love people figuring out fusion from the ground up XD


End file.
